Now give us a kiss
by hallulawy
Summary: What if Thor really accepted Loki's jest of 'Now give us a kiss? A series of short stories that rating varies from K to M. Please read and review. :
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes:

Thank you for all of the Author alerts/reviews/favourites! :) Though I would be happier if more people reviewed...:(

I think I'm going to throw something here... Once in a while. Of course, if somebody would review it, I would be ever so glad. ;)

I'm currently still writing my ongoing fanfic, Do I know You? And another one that is still under construction. :p

So... I think these random, shorter ones shall belong to here, I guess.

* * *

Pairing: Thor/Loki

Rating: Pg-13

Disclaimer: I own none of them. NONE.

Summary: Based on the infamous deleted scene, where Loki asks for a kiss from Thor.

* * *

"Now give us a kiss."

Loki's smirk is evident on his pale face, though the lighting is dim and his face was silhouetted under the dancing flames by the torch, Thor could still capture the little mischievous crinkles along his eyes, and the twinkling lights in those emerald orbs.  
Loki looks absolutely beautiful.  
He didn't realize he was staring into the face with such concentration, until Loki starts furrowing his thin eyebrows. The look of confusion adorned his face, making him so utterly adorable.  
"Thor?"  
The silent whisper came like a soft wind, and caresses his ears.  
"I would, brother. I would."  
Then, he leans in, use his thick fingers to tilt the sharp chin upwards and brush his lips onto the side of Loki's plush lips.  
It was light as a feather, perhaps this barely even counts as a kiss.  
Slowly, Thor moves away, and adjusts his gaze onto the bewildered expression now Loki has. Those pretty green eyes widens, those sinful lips slightly open, and tints of red starts creeping in on his soft cheeks.  
The effects are admirable.  
"W-What?" Obviously, he had not thought of the consequences of his previous words. Such a surprising error committed by the usual conscientious trickster.  
"You asked me to give you a kiss. And there it is." Thor says with a innocent tone.

"B-But clearly-"

"-Clearly, that wasn't even counted as a kiss." Thor continues the sentence while feigning solemness with his furrowed eyebrows. "I shall complete the given task by my good brother," He grins brightly at Loki's dumbstruck expression. "Right after the coronation."

"Wait, no, NO-"

Thor leans in once again, and grasps onto Loki's shoulder while he speaks into his ear.

"Do anticipate me in your lovely bedroom, brother." Thor presses on the last word with a hushed tone. Noticing the hot breath that sends a shiver to the liesmith. "Tonight, your King shall fulfill his first promise, and you, my lucky cow, shall prepare yourself for the coming events."  
With that, he pats Loki's shoulder lovingly one last time, and leaves.  
Leaving the dumbfound trickster blushing like a blooming red rose, and finally when he reaches halfway to the court, a stutter echoes to his ear.  
"This, this surely is a jest, brother?"  
Thor smiles to himself, while not halting his footsteps.  
"Well. We shall know soon, don't we? Brother?"  
Thor could not contain his grin until he was in the court, facing all the Asgardian warriors, his friends and his parents. Of course, Loki came by shortly, but that is when he finally retains his calmness. Thor swear, he could still see a small blush on the porcelain skin.  
Thor greets all of them with a roar, and secretly, congratulates himself for the rare and successful attempt of rendering his brother to a stammering mess.  
Perhaps it is all a joke to Loki. He thought.  
But as he comes near the throne, he sees the averting eyes of Loki's. Those greens decided not to meet his.  
_Very well then_. Thor thought.  
He gazes onto his predecessor, the current King.  
Lets see how would you like to run, when you look onto your new king tonight.  
_Brother._


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note:

I'm really sorry for the long drag without any updates... But I was quite obsessed with drawing and I couldn't claw myself away from it since I had such litlle time... :'(

And I'm really, really sorry that last time I updated with the Huntsman/Prince Hal crossover. :( I think I fogged the borderline between actors and their filmography.

So here is a small update! :)

* * *

Pairing: Thor/Loki

Summary: A teensy weensy crossover of Inception and Avengers.

Warnings: No warnings. Except for fluff? And my crappy language. :/

Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers and Inception at all. They belong to Joss Whedon and Christopher Nolan or the company or producers. :/

* * *

They are sitting on the black leather couch they've bought just a week ago, while watching the few days old telly they nicked from Tony.

The apartment they are in now, is the one that the list Tony Stark's trusty A.I - or as quoted by Thor, the sound of no presence - gave them a dart to throw on. It doesn't matter which apartment they chose, the choices were filtered so that it's location is still near the Stark Tower and full of conveniences that would not bore the two gods to unwanted boredom.

Currently, they are content with their new life as common Midgardians, though the odd movie Loki picked speaks otherwise. Poptarts are long out of the scene, since Thor stuffed all of them in his mouth after the first 5 minutes opening of the movie.

The movie is named 'Inception', if Thor remembers correctly.

And even now, Loki is dozing off on his left shoulder, indicating and implying that Thor is not the only one who is affected by the radiating confusion of the movie.

He managed to understand the concept of 'a dream within a dream' the characters so frequently reminded him of. Yet he cannot understand why does the short man (who funnily had the similarities with Hogun) insists to join the team, as he had no significance in aiding the people physically.

While he voiced out his confusion, Loki merely said 'Just sit silent and watch, oaf.'

'I'll explain it to you later.'

Thus he continues without making a sound. But the temptation to speak is increasingly difficult to ignore as more confusion appeared, along with the blasting sounds from the telly that seems to be implying a crucial incident is happening.

He averts his gaze from the screen for a while, from a scene of the people floating in mid-air. He must acquire such information from son of Stark once he had the time. It is quite important to understand such impossibility that could easily damage their tendency of having their feet stuck to the floor.

While he silently hums to his own agreement, he glances down at his lover.

If he wasn't smiling then, he is smiling now.

Those long and thick eyelashes formed endearing light shadows, and the slow inhalation of the nostrils makes tiny sounds that is quite similar to the adorable Midgardian pet. He aches for one of those tiny furry creatures. They remind him of _him_.

The permission shall be acquired from Loki soon.

He stares at the rare scene of Loki's slumber for so long, he jumps a bit when he heard something screeching. Not a shrill, ear-busting screech. But a soft yet distinctive sound that breaks the silence.

Thor looks out of the window, careful not to move his body too much, and realize it is the daily dutiful transportation named train stopping on a certain spot, allowing the puny people to gain access of it.

"You are waiting for a train-"

Suddenly, he remembers something.

He looks down onto the sleeping beauty (he silently called his love as such, for Loki would castrate him if he ever knew), and back to the telly.

Slowly, he moves his mouth to the shape of a pale ear, and murmurs something that strikes through his mind just now.

"You are waiting for a train,

a train that will take you far away.

You know where you hope this train will take you,

but you don't know for sure.

But it doesn't matter.

How can it not matter where the train will take you?'

"Because we will be together." Loki's soft voice reached Thor's ears. Oddly, he wasn't startled.

Instead he grins, while sniffing the distinctive scent of mint that belongs to Loki.

He could feel something small bubbling in his core, something that resembles happiness and warm.

The telly continues to play the plot, and now the puny humans are in the snow. Those annoyingly loud music and sound effects is irritating him slightly.

Loki's eyes are still closed. But there's a smirk on his thin lips now.

"Well? What do you want to say?" The dulcet tone rings delightfully in Thor's ears.

Thor contemplates for a while, and grins.

He kisses Loki's smooth ebony hair, and whispers.

'I want you to know. That we'll grow old together.'

'That's all.'

The blush on Loki's face is pinkish and slight.

But it cheers Thor to no end.

* * *

I'm sorry that it's so short. :(

For Do I know You?, that is still under construction so that I could clean it's plot. :)

Though I'm not sure when is the next time I would update..

I feel like Steven Moffat now. :o


	3. Chapter 3

Pairing: Thor/Loki

Rating: G (fluff and all)

Disclaimer: I own none of the Avengers or Thor comic, movie characters~

* * *

There was once a little boy, age no more than 6.

He have a pair of hands that could conjure fantasy and spin chaos. Those pair of small hands are pale and delicate, attributed with nimbleness, deft and elegance that are scarcely found on a boy with such a young age.  
Everyday, he would wave his fingers, no matter if the subject is alive or dead, he would try to wave with such a motion, it is like he is summoning spells and gifting magic onto each and every one of them.

Of course, nothing happened.  
Yet he continues to do so, huge emerald eyes narrows as he focuses on such a peculiar activity, back facing any audiences, with only sunshine and light breezes to keep him company. He gave the others a hard time to bear, as the chambermaids could barely stifle their giggles and guards struggles to keep their expression solemn.

None of them thought of the reason, why would he always went to play alone in the garden, and why did he chose such an odd entertainment.  
They never realize the lack of a companion beside him, or at least, the lack of a human companion beside him.

They never saw him crying.

One day, something happened.  
He waves the small fingers onto the slumbering hound, pink lips parting slightly as he mutters something inaudible to himself.  
The hound, with sunlit golden fur and a forever friendly demeanor, is his only friend in the whole castle. He would pet him, sneak him treats when he thought nobody is looking.  
Make small, impossible wishes upon the stars with him, while allowing him to snuggle his night robes in his vast bedroom.

Perhaps, the stars finally took pity on him, and granted his numerous hope a miracle.

He coughs as puffs of smoke fogs his sight, eyes half closed as he tries to witness what is truly happening.  
His heart thrummed in his ears, even thought he know not why.

What replaced the hound, after the white mists subsided, is a boy.  
A boy with a blonde head, and twinkling sapphire eyes.

"Thor...?"  
He grins ever so brightly as his name is called by his favourite person in his small world.  
He nods excitedly, and spreads his arms wide as he did the unpredictable. (Predictable for a pet, but no, not for a boy.)

"Loki!"

He pounces onto the dark haired child, so much smaller than him in stature, leaving the boy gasping for air as he is squeezed so tightly under

the warm embrace.

"Your wish came true Loki! Our wish came true!"  
The boisterous nature of the blonde child(pup?) renders Loki speechless as he nuzzles Loki's neck, just like what he always do when he was still a pup.

"Our wish..."  
Thor looks into Loki's eyes as he heard the tiny voice, smothered with awe.  
He looks confused at first, and then the huge grin appears again.

"Our wish, Loki." This time, he said ever so softly, as he touched his nose with his.

"Our wish."


	4. Chapter 4

Pairing: Thor/Loki

Rating: M

Warning: Smut, pseudo-incest, spanking, dub-con

Disclaimer: I own none of them, the movie the comics or anything concerning of Thor or Loki.

Author's notes: This is my first attempt on proper smut- So be nice please... ;A;

* * *

"Stop, please-"

Another slap is earned as the lithe body struggles on the lap, sobs choked in the poor prince's throat.

He did not know how long they have been doing this, how many times has his bottom been assaulted by the calloused hand.

He just wants it to stop.

"Please Thor, please-"

Tears stream down pathetically down his flushed cheeks, his face scrunches as yet another slap is earned for his begging.

And another.

And another.

Until he could only feel the heat of his face, ears and his behind, the large hand stops.

The slaps turns tender caresses that could be felt on his bare ass, making him whimper as the stinging pain reminds him of the humiliation again and again, the heat making him realize how wet his cheeks are because of tears, how unbecoming it is for him to be bent naked over his brother's lap (yet another forceful act of Thor's to ensure the admonishment leaves a greater effect onto the God of Mischief).

The fondle did not ease the pain, or rather, prolongs it.

It is not until Thor's blunt fingers spreads his bruised ass cheeks, that Loki realizes Thor's attempt.

He is in no chance of defending himself at all, stripped from his clothing ever since the punishment started, all he could do is to grasp onto the other mans attire. Fully dressed and a contrast of his exposure.

"Thor," He could feel fear slowly crawling up his skin, " Wait-" He gasps as the finger taps at his tight entrance, another hand pulls him up to make him sit on the Thunderer's lap and face the smirking blonde. His hands pushes the broad chest weakly, as he could feel the fingers of the owner start pinching his nipple, making it uncomfortably stiff and rosy.

"Thor- I can't," Tiny sobs are heard, emerald eyes threatens to fall tears yet again. His breath hitches as the warm lips enclose on his other peaking bud, sucking on it as if to silence his cries. The thick finger finally protrudes into the pink orifice, making the trembling prince cry even louder.

The pink cock on the other hand, says otherwise.

Leaking drops of pearly whites, the slightest friction from Thor's smooth tunic could make his pleasure increase by folds.

"Yet another lie, Liesmith?" He released the nub as he speaks, though he licks it with the tip of his tongue to make the writhing man moan.

"Perhaps you should realize how blatant the truth is, and succumb to the fact that not even your silvertongue could cover this ludicrous lie," Thor's voice sound unusually deep and it is almost a growl. Sapphire eyes shines dangerously, his lips turns into a smirk.

"Do you not know what you are, brother?" He says as he licks the pale neck, "You are a whore. My whore."

He carries him up suddenly, forcing the man to wrap his long legs around the waist. Loki gasps as he could feel the evident arousal of his brother beneath the breeches.

A soft thud is heard as he is thrown onto the bed, albeit lightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make his legs spread wider even, exposing himself completely in the air.

"Lest you forget that you are forbidden to act like a lecherous mistress with those men," Thor, kneeling on the side of the bed, while licking his lips as he undresses himself, "Perhaps I should take the responsible of satisfying you much more seriously." He did not see how Loki's quick swipe on his own lips as he takes in the sight hungrily. The previously sobbing mess he is vanished in the thin air, as he listens to the words he have been awaiting for the night.

"Brother..." Loki purrs as his eyes soften, taking in his brother in all of his glory.

"And that is what you want, isn't it? To be treated like the naughty child you are?" Thor positions himself between his dear brother's legs, allow his hands to roam the body, utter words of immoral to the younger's ears.

"_Because you're mine, and those lowly wenches should backoff from what is mine-_" This is left unsaid as Thor finally gives Loki his first kiss of the night, dominating him like how he always do.

_My brother, mine-_

He smirks into the deepening kiss, tears all gone as he wraps his arms on the oh so familiar shoulders.

_How you would never know, efforts are needed to gain success- Brother._

* * *

_... I WROTE SMUT. I WROTE SMUT._

_A PROPER SMUT. (THROWS CONFETTI)_

_I'm so sorry for the late updates- I hope 2 updates would suffice... ;A;)_

_I am so busy with exams and I lost my muse for such a long time-_

_Thank you so much for reading! ;v;)/_

* * *

_Uhm... I've edited a bit of it, because I accidentally missed out a large chunk of it, and apparently, as clumsy as I am, I didn't know you could actually update the chapter without DELETING the said chapter first. ORZ_

_I'm extremely sorry, and I'll try to reduce such pathetic errors. _

_Thank you for reading! And reviews are very welcomed. :) _


	5. Chapter 5

Pairing: Thor/Loki

Rating: T

Warning: None.

Summary: Thor tries to bring Loki to meet his parents. But Loki who is uncertain of it, denies of the possibilities Thor offers.

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor, Loki or any of the Marvel movie characters.

* * *

Their fingers intertwines, as Loki's breathing starts to speed up. His behavior of confronting nervousness is blatant in Thor's eyes, and though he himself feels the same thrumming of the heart, the juggling of the mind, he still tries his best to suppress all of them down his gut. His large hand squeezes Loki's lightly to drown the pale boy's uncertainty, to offer him comfort.

Loki turns over to glance at him, wide eyes shining a bright emerald, thin lips forming a firm line. Thor sees how he gulps difficultly, like he is swallowing down a piece of unknown revolt, eyes waters as he tries to speak.

"I can't do this," He whispers. So tiny he sound, fingers relaxing and contracting, body experiencing a shudder as he tries to turn around, tries to release Thor's hand and fled to somewhere far far away.

They were just a door apart and a train away from their greatest obstacle.

All they had to do was to leave Thor's dorm, and they would be so much closer to the rendezvous.

But he can't.

His black shirt crinkles as he turns suddenly, black sneakers emitting squeaky noises as the sole slides on the marble tiles.

But Thor did not release Loki's hand.

In fact, he grips it harder, exerting force onto it as he pulls him back, not seeing how the thin white hand became red on the sides, just taking in on how the boy looks so afraid, the edge of his lips twitching as his hair shivers under the light wind.

"Why? Why can't you do this?" He questions, hand still tight on the other. "Didn't we agree that we'll be in this together, no matter what?"

The soft tone that is brimmed with confusion and slight annoyance seems to triggered the ire in the other, he jolts at the question, glares hard at his lover as he opens his mouth.

"But I _can't_! I told you hundreds of times,_ that I can't! _You know the consequences! What if they would never accept me, or _YOU_?" Loki spat as his face flushes, body threatening to bend into half as he still struggles to release his hand. "Your friends! What if they decide that it's not_ COOL _to befriend a queer? What if your parents thought how disgusting it is, that their only son is actually dating a male, a _freak_ at the very least! Your_ parents_, Thor! " He said it with agony, obviously trying to lead imply what he himself lack of. "What if everything you have are ruined, and just because of, _of_—"

"—-You?" Thor completes his sentence with a calm tone. Though the glisten in his eyes tells otherwise. His azure eyes shows shades of pain as he gently releases the pained boy. Knowing he wouldn't run away, even if he attempt to.

It's like seeing how a child's hope getting crushed brutally, as he is revealed to the harshest truth. All of the emotions are flowing out of the eyes without a sound, the pain conspicuously take over the lithe body.

As his beloved breaks down, he sobs as he falls onto his knees, the overwhelming pressure he had on his shoulders all this time finally defeated him.

Thor tries to endure the burn of his heart, slowly kneeling down as well, cups the trembling cheeks, nuzzles the flushed skin, kissing away the stream of tears.

"We talked about this, Loki." He mutters, feeling the bitter taste of the tears that resembles their relationship.

"Everything would be fine."

He always repeats this. _Why wouldn't you believe?_

Their surroundings seems to swirl into a gigantic whirlpool, trying to swallow them up, denying them access of crossing the door. The blue walls and the large bed that they've shared intimacy in the night are trying to allure them to give up, to tell them that they might as well maintain the tiny fragments of happiness that still lies in their hands. Telling them that this gamble might tear them to pieces—- Why take the chance?

Thor feels a slight dread. Not now, no. He need to persuade Loki, not succumb to the wretched reality they are in.

He forces himself to look at his lover, crumbling the thought of giving up.

Loki, oblivious to the internal struggles Thor is encountering, hiccups as he tries to glare at the blonde, yet it doesn't seem to work even though the thin line of eyebrows furrows greatly.

He is going to say something, to _deny._ Thor knows this so well.

"You, you're dumb," He hiccups eloquently, trying to push away the massive body.

Startled, Thor chuckles. Heart swelling with bursts of hope. Loki's perseverance seems to have weakened after their previous attempts.

He peppers the face with feather-like kisses, over the brows, the tip of the nose, the jaw.

"Yes. Are you not the smart one between us?" He said under his breath, eyes shut.

Loki did not reply, but he blushes as he Thor kisses his earlobe, taking in the minty scent.

The thumb smears his tears away, while the other fingers caresses the smooth cheek.

Thor felt a gush of relief, as he notice that the tears finally ended.

Loki whines at the intimacy Thor is offering, his knees hurt as they remained in the position for too long.

"You know it might not end as well as you think." He murmurs after he calmed down completely. Nimble fingers finally coming up to play with the golden strands he loves so much.

"And it might not end as bad as you think." Thor kisses the neck, happy that the ever so worrying boy finally defeats his pessimistic again. Though silently he ponders, would this happen yet again? Previous attempts had Loki throwing tantrums and giving him a cold shoulder for days. Today, is an entirely different reaction.

"Might, you say." He sniffles.

Pulling at the hair not so roughly, he forces his puppy-like boyfriend to look at him in the eyes.

They feel like drowning into each others beautiful world, running away from this not so pretty reality.

"Promise me," Loki whispers. "That if they disapprove of us, you would not be stubborn for us." He ends the sentence almost painfully, eyes twitching.

"I would not." Thor growls. "You know I never make idle promises. All would be fine."

Loki grins sadly at the childish words, lips touching the others stubble filled cheek gently, as if to reward a pet.

"You're a terrible liar."

"And you're a terrible optimist."

They both chuckled and allow their fingers to intertwine again.

Loki sighs as he close his eyes.

"Let's go. We're already late."

The creaking noise of the door, the almost mechanical announcement of the train's arrival, the sound of the doorbell.

"Oh, both of you are here! Come in!"

And somehow, the jovial greet made his heart calm down.

Even more so, the grin on his beloved's and his lovely family and friends.

"We've been expecting you." They all look at him like they knew, like they understand, like they accept.

The grip on his hand tightens, and he feels like he did it.

They did it.

* * *

_I was so sad… I'm really not sure, the quality of my writing. ;A;)_

_Sigh…_


	6. Chapter 6

Pairing: Chris Hemsworth/Tom Hiddleston

Rating: R-18/NC-17

Summary: Phone sex. PWP.

Warning: I don't know, my stupid writing and this is very sudden. I don't even know where this came from. UNBETA-ED.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Or their phones.

* * *

_There are so many limitations, so many restrictions._

_And what can we do but to accommodate, to make a better out of it._

_So even if we need to cut down on our words, talk a lot lesser, we can make something out of it. An excuse to allow our hands roam freely, to make our eyes speak our thoughts._

_I never knew how gestures could be so useful, how smiles could express my glee, how touch could roar out my needs._

_And how enthralled I am, to us. To everything between us, to how we make ourselves better from the less._

_It is indeed, what I never thought of. _

_Just like when you said 'Hello' to me, with the crinkles around your azure eyes. With the amicable glint in them, the grin you offered so warm._

_I was captivated immediately, completely out of my mind._

_So even if we can't speak that much, it doesn't matter._

_We use technology to close up the distance, to murmur sweet nothings to each other's ears._

* * *

_But then, you hurt me._

_And I forgive you._

_Even if you used your phone to call our relationship off._

_Even if you broke my heart in a minute._

_You hurt me._

* * *

_Do you remember how I moaned, how you said something so filthy into my ears as we make love._

_We were mingling ourselves with each other, making both of us belong to each other._

_But now, it's different._

* * *

_Now I'm encouraging you to imagine that I am right beside you, legs splayed, skin flushed and all for your taking. _

_You said no, no._

_'Tom, don't.' You sound so helpless, losing your breath as I ignored your mumbles, as I continue to enrapture you, to make you need me equally too._

_I love it._

* * *

'Tom, stop.' Chris breath heavily from the phone, he sounds like he's heaving, suffering from a very serious injury.

Maybe he is.

'But you want this, you know you do.' Tom continues with his deft fingers, his cellphone beside his left ear, on the pillow while the loudspeaker is on.

There could be static, but why would he care.

He roams his fingers across his lean body, slightly flushed at his attempts to arouse himself. When they came back to the jutting cock between his open thighs, he could almost imagine those thin and long fingers being somebody else's. Somebody who have thicker fingers, blunt fingertips that are rough. He imagine those fingers firm around his cock, the thumb playing with the leaking slit. White blobs smeared, trickling down the pink shaft.

Until they come to the cleft of his ass, ticklish as they are eager to be licked around his tight hole, eager for that man's attention.

'Chris, Chris, Chris' Tom chants, his high cheekbones flushed, his curls bouncing as he moves his hips back and forth, his lips wet with the pink tongue constantly darting out. Pupils blown wide, eyes watery as he really imagine the presence of the blonde man right in front of him, as near as the grunts and heavy breaths that are right beside his ear.

He relishes them, those moans, they make him feel so wanted, so filthy with lust.

'I'm so ready for your cock, your huge cock, hungry for it—-' His other hand finally reached between his legs, fingertips prodding that puckered hole. It's not wet enough, too dry, he looks around for any unguent, lubrication around him. His eyes light up as he remembers the small bottle of lube he kept in his drawers.

'Come on Chris,' _love me_. After slicking up his fingers, he dips them into his hole, cautious in the beginning, then he feels brave enough to act out his fantasy, he use his middle finger to prepare himself, out of breath and head spinning as he face the shimmering device that still is connected to Chris.

'I'm fucking myself now,' _wish it's you_. The loud moan didn't went for a waste, triggering his pleasure points as he smiles into his sweat soaked pillow, adding the fingers to two, three.

'Tom,' He made it sound like a question, like he's asking him why is he doing this to him, a wet noise is heard on Tom's side, along with a loud moan.

'Love you so much, I have three fingers in me,' He says slightly out of breath, he finds it harder to pleasure himself this way, so he flips onto his stomach, leading both of them to the throes of passion as he makes obscene noises with his fingers and mouth. The excess lube leaks out of the orifice, sliding down his shivering thighs.

'Please. No,' Chris sounds like he's close, a choked sob in his throat, incapable of preventing this from becoming something worse. This was not what he wished of after he called it off with Tom.

He wanted to be friends again.

'But, I'm so wet.' Tom sobs, stretching his hole further as he sticks his pinkie finger into it too, making it sting, ache in such a good way he can't help but rubbing his cock against the bedsheets, he is coming so close, so very close—-

'I love you, love you, CHRIS—-' His body convulses, his eyes can't hold back the tears. They made everything blurry, he squeezes his eyes close, but something in him still broke.

He could feel how the intense pleasure ride his body, how he sobs as he comes onto the bedsheets.

His hole aches, his fingers slips out without him knowing. He knows what is broken. But he knew that it isn't up for mending anymore.

_I love you. Love you._

But what replies him is the dull beeps of his cellphone. Going on and on, ringing incessantly, an annoyance as he could feel the lust melting off his sweat drenched body. Echoing as he realize all that is left in him is a black void.

His tears are streaming down his cheeks, soaking the pillow even further.

His naked body feel cold on the bed. The sweat cooling off.

He can't even bring himself up.

* * *

And then the door creaked.

And he saw it.

'Tom.'

He sounds so different from the phone. So much better.

So much real.

'Chris.'

_So real._

* * *

_Sorry for the short update of smut, and yes, I post this here because I think there are some Hiddlesworth fans here? If this is inappropriate, I shall take it down then. :)_

_I posted this on Tumblr earlier._

_To take a look, please go to my Tumblr blog, it's hallulawy-dot-tumblr-dot-com/post/37409306401/phone-hiddlesworth_


	7. Chapter 7

Pairing: Thor/Loki

Rating: R-18/NC-17

Summary: Thor and Jotun!Loki's wedding night. (Porn with the least amount of plot.)

Warning: I don't know what gotten into me and I just wrote this when I just wanted to write something short and pure without porn. SO this is another outcome of my eccentricity so beware please and don't kill me I'm so sorry. And UN-BETAD plus my stupid writing okay I don't even know why.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Or anything related to Marvel.

* * *

He was unaware of how his newly gained consort felt throughout their coupling. (Is he as ardent as he was, or is he just acting this out like a ritual?)

All he is aware of was the mesmerizing heat swallowing him whole, the lust and passion pervading the air as he feel the contrast of cool blue skin under his calloused palms.

He thinks, that they are united not only by the alliance, but through a lingering sense of belonging that haunted them for years since their first meeting. They were small, achingly young and shy. Hid behind their guardians knees and sneaking peeks at each other, alarmed by the disparity that stood like thick barriers between them already.

He is pale, he is azure.

His eyes are cerulean, his are carmine.

He have a head of sunlight yellow, he have a head of full ebony.

He heard of how their kind would eat his people whole, how they laugh as they tore their limbs. He was taught to be appalled of them.

But he felt none of that. He saw with his own eyes, that behind the silk frock stood a child equally terrified and shy, his stature smaller than him still. The short but thin body detected even if only half of his body is revealed.

He was urged by his mother to greet the horned child, a gentle push at the back that left him stumbled to the front. And that was when he saw the child even closer, awed as he take in the neatly braided hair that reaches his shoulders, the smooth features that are not rough with scars.

He was captivated. Far away, he wondered if this creature was the fairytale princess of constellations his mother so often tells before his slumber. He always swore to his mother that he would no doubt marry one in the future, but mother always put on a smile that looks sad.

'You will marry one day. Not long after you can fight beasts, not before you could grasp onto wisdom. But you would wed, you would learn to love. Even if your consort might not be whom you expect, but you would learn to love.'

He would be lying if he says that he could comprehend what his mother meant on that particular night. The night that is weeks before the royal family of the other realm arrived. But he knows, as he pecked the soft, cool cheek under the gazes of the satisfied majesties, that he would never resent this bride of his.

'I, I need—-' The almost inaudible moan snaps him out of the perhaps temporary trance, the hitched moan and wriggling body underneath him forcing him to recognize the priorities now. He is almost taken aback by the crimson eyes that glistens as they narrows into slits, the sinuous thighs that are tightening around his hips.

He growls, and finds himself disinterested in reminiscing the past again. Folding the pliant body into two, he huffs hot breath onto the prominent collarbone, licking the thin sheen of sweat as he thrusts into the tight but slicked orifice. The sharp intake of breath and pained grunt came almost unexpected. Thor tries to soothe the pain as he kisses the tightened jaw, quelling his own worries, and then to the now wet cheeks. He can't see if he is blushing or not, but he could feel the warmth radiating from it.

Silently, he waits until he hear the affirmation to continue, even if his throbbing erection seeks for a series of reckless pounding that brought more pain than pleasure to the other. Of certainty, he is allowed. He knew that no matter what he do, the Jotun would comply, for he is the one to bear his heir, the maternal figure who is to cope with even the gravest threats that is unprepared in their planned marriage.

But he doesn't, he waits until the tiny nod is given, and starts thrusting slowly while exerting himself from harming the ice prince. The tight hot passage that clenches around him aids him none in his efforts.

It wasn't long until the air is filled with low grunts, gasps and breathless moans, incomplete sentences that urges him to go faster, harder. The thick scent of lust surrounding them. Loki's dark hair spread like rich strokes on a canvass, glowing softly under the far vividness of the candlelight. His lithe body remains tense and the fingers clenches and unclenches on the covers. He could see much too clearly, Thor thought as he licks his lips absentmindedly, plunging into the body roughly and erratically, looking at how the usual remote figure rendered to a sobbing mess under him.

In the throes of passion, he could almost feel something on the tip of his tongue, eager to be formed into words. Those little words that he couldn't even spell now, just slips out of his mouth as he grip the weeping erection between them while balancing the body with one sturdy hand.

'Love you.' He grits, opening his mouth like he's out of breath, like his heart is bursting and he can't seem to find another way to rid the pressure.

And that's when Loki looks up at him with wide eyes, a conspicuous violet blush high on his sharp cheekbones. Unpredictably, his whole body suddenly convulses as he cries a short, frantic cry, covering his face with his arms as he spills all over Thor's hand and his belly.

Thor grunts as the wet heat tightens around him, too caught up that he releases his load into his beloved, filling him to the brim until it starts trickling out. Heavy breaths mingles in the air, immensely so as it paired up with tiny moans as Thor pulls his flaccid cock out of the hole. Loki remains as he is until Thor tries pulling the arms away. He wouldn't, hisses as Thor holds onto both his wrists in one hand.

'Don't touch me.' He murmurs, uninterested in the sudden stillness of his consort above him. He is aware though, of the persistence of his husband, as the hand pushes his arms away forcefully to reveal himself to a panting, pained face.

'You spoke as such after our love making?'

'You call it love, when I see in clarity that you say it with bitterness. You lie.' Loki spat, and Thor sees it clearly that the cheeks are still wet, the eyes are flooded with new tears.

'I did not.' Thor says, the words come out pained even to his ears. Touching the smooth cheeks with his fingerpads, he denies the weak struggle, and whispers into the ear.

'I love you, Loki.'

And the frost giant, barely eighteen winters old, cries even harder in his arms. He tries pushing the enveloping heat around him, the soft coos that is converting him into a believer that he thought would be yet another impossibility.

'You lie.' Was what he repeated over and over again like a petulant child, until his lips are sealed. He vaguely remembers this soft kiss as what he had when he just reached fourteen winters, the kiss he earned under the Stygian skies while the other thought he was deep in slumber.

And that, was what made him stop lying.

* * *

You should know that I'm crying red now because of this on Tumblr and I'm imploding in my head cause I have tonnes of schoolwork, drawing requests I promised others and loads of prompts that I wanna finish but couldn't.

But here's something that I guess wouldn't do anything good cause plot is hard and I need to practice porn okay.

So reviews are all very welcomed!

And this is the longest note I ever wrote so... Yea. (scrambles)


	8. Chapter 8

Author notes: Thank you so much for all of the reviews, favourites and follows for my previous chapter! I love all of you to bits and it's so nice for all of you to do so! I could never thank you enough~~ 3

* * *

Pairing: Thor/Loki (brotherly I guess?)

Rating: G

Summary: Based on this pic, post/42582178678/well-i-thought-of-a-hogwarts-au-and-then-snake.

A short thing on Loki being stuffed into Slytherin.

Warning: I haven't read Harry Potter in a long time, so there could be some ooc. UN-BETAD plus my stupid writing okay I don't even know why.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Or anything related to Marvel. And Harry Potter belongs to J,K. Rowling.

* * *

He could hear a loud crack as the Sorting Hat yells at the top of his immaterial and unrealistic lungs, 'Slytherin!'.

He thought of crying, shouting and making accusations at the historical artifact, melding it with the scorching spell he learnt recently and see it wither under the spiking flames. Or just retrieve the pair of scissors he kept hidden under the layers of his garments, and cut it into scant pieces.

Of course all of these are futile, pathetic even. He does not want to do anything irrational, but he feel the urge rising in him as he escapes the hat and stool. Lips trembling, he walks faster, past the tables of whispers and snickers, quiet murmurs and finally the chortles coming from the long table of his new house. The boys are offering gesticulations of heavy pats and loud welcomes that did nothing to comfort him. The girls on the other hand, remains cool and distant although their widening eyes and smirks speaks otherwise.

Trying to hide himself in a corner, he thought of getting himself into the end of the table where they couldn't make much contact with him, and take the hint to leave him alone too. But of course things must contradict with his wishes. He is crowded to the center of attention instead, forced to take a conspicuous seating that would allow everybody to take a good look at him like the proud Slytherin he should be.

'We got Odinson and the lad's the smart one too!' One of the snobbish boys shouted, his cronies flapping their robes ridiculously along with him as he sways his lanky body stupidly to prove his point. All the while, the other houses just blatantly looks at him while whispering to one another. Not privy matters or gossips that is shared, but truth that is ruining him further than the lies he ever uttered.

Truth about how he is the only Slytherin in the long list of Gryffindor's of his ancient family.

Ashamed, he could not get himself to take a glimpse across the tables and seek for his kin. He endeavours to bury himself under his loose-fitting robes and hide his tears as he sheds them silently in his cracked heart. A small relief is present though, when he could feel himself flushing but no tears flowed out of the sometimes treacherous eyes.

Suicidal thoughts flashing to threaten him into an early demise. If possible, that is. For all that he could have actually have in his hands are crumbled when the hat announced its decisions.

* * *

_'Hmmm, how peculiar. And yet not. I have already the decision little one, Slytherin it is—-'_

_'No!'_

_'… No?'_

_'I don't want to go to Slytherin!' He stutters with a racing heart. 'A, Anywhere but there!' He squeezes his eyes tight as he hears the loud hum in his head._

_'Oh my…' The hat sounds calm even if it tries to sound astonished. 'But Slytherin offers accommodation and brilliance that you would grow accustomed to faster than the other houses…I could see it clear as day…' The hat drags his tone._

_'With your blood and knowledge, artful as you are, even Ravenclaw would dim for it lacks the amount of cunning… You could achieve greatness, gain prominence you crave—- And you do not yearn for it…?' The hat whispers the last of his words with implications that makes Loki swallow nervously. He could feel heat shrouding him, blocking out the atmosphere around._

_'Ah… It is your brother…' The hat states with it's deep baritone. 'A Gryffindor… Proud, valiant one with the heart of a lion… And you want to be with him…' Loki blushes at the choice of words. 'As a member of the antique pureblood's bloodline… Hmm… Tricky tricky…'_

_'Yes, yes. Just assign me to Gryffindor and all would be settled.' Loki quips hurriedly, knowing he is certainly attracting more and more unwanted attention as he remains seated with the hat. He clenches and unclenches on the side of the stool, eyes fluttering open to take in the gloomy nightskies that is lit up with countless candlefire._

_'… I understand what shall be done now, Loki Odinson…' The hat mutters. 'Yes, yes… That shall be the best… As the blood rarely parts with fate, you_

_should know this, child…' Almost inaudible, Loki sighs at the words, thinking he persuaded the ancient object to grant his wishes._

* * *

And how wrong he was. Now he is left pondering what the old piece of magick said. He huffs as he pulls onto his robe. Indifferent he is towards the sudden uproars and silence that floods the hall everytime the Sortng Hat meets a newcomer.

Moments later, after realizing that nothing could be done even if he continues to stare holes into his empty plate, he finally looks up, searching for the messy head of blonde among the clouds of black on the other long table.

He holds onto his breath as he found the piercing azures of his brother's, looking at him intently without a blink. Another blow of cheer is made, and another member of Gryffindor is made. The loud claps and excited hoots reduced to naught when Loki focuses himself onto Thor.

Thor's expression is blank, but a hint of confusion is found between his furrowed brows, and his lips moves just as he starts making signs using his large hands. A code they invented since they were children, an intimacy Loki secretly relishes.

_'Meet me later, okay?'_

Loki looks around him, and starts making signs of his own.

_'How?'_

_'Just after you get the password, don't enter your dorm just yet. Wait for me.'_

Hesitant because he would surely be swept into his room by the boisterous students, he forms a small plan that would somehow deviate their attention from him later. He broods still, but he is slightly cheered up by the upcoming meeting between them. Nodding, he makes sure Thor sees it. The silence hanging in the air dissipates and the clamour returns when another student is categorized to Ravenclaw.

It was worth the heavy anonymous pat on his back again, when his brother returns a grin in full instantaneously.

* * *

_As usual, all reviews are most welcomed! :D Thank you for reading~~_


	9. Chapter 9

Pairing: Hiddlesworth

Rating: M-ish

Summary: White Valentines I guess.

Warning: Borderline M.

Disclaimer: I don't own them or the chocolates.

* * *

Tom loves how they are so compatible with each other. Like how Chris is always serene and laid-back, his easy smiles and occasional guffaws well liked among the girls. Not to mention his bulging muscles that could shame other males in comparison. Tom had the chance to squeeze them, just that once. He was astonished and embarrassed at the same time.

Yet despite his good looks and good upbringing, he also has the height advantage that dwarfs others. Unlike some of Tom's friends that are amazingly endowed with their appearances, they tend to get frustrated by their stature.

Though Chris' tallness does actually enables him to tower over others without even trying, it somehow makes him resemble a lovable bear that is frequently immersed in his own world, mouth closed while munching some snack he found in their kitchen. The amount of junkfood he stuffs in his mouth for everyday makes Tom wonder just how many workouts Chris needs to do to rid the calories off.

He remembered giving Chris a whole packet of bite sized Mars for Valentines last month,(purely platonic of course, even if his intentions were deemed as the opposite by his sister, he still likes to think it that way.), and by the end of the week, it's large packet was spotted and scrunched up in their trash bin.

Today, similarly, he have his mouth full with Tom's stash of Belgian chocolates, which Tom gladly offers to his roommate even though they were souvenirs from Sarah's trip and possibly worth more than Tom could ever afford. Sarah was thrifty, but based on the delicate swirls and elegant fonts printed on the sizable black box of chocolates, he gulps as he imagine the price of it.

But as much as he treasures them, he just goes with it, eager to please the other blonde when he stares hungrily at it with the face of a pleading puppy. He ripped the plastic off without further hesitation, and presents it to Chris while casually offers him the small brown delicacies.

Now, his eyes are no longer focused on his dull textbook. He tried, yet they are fixed onto the tightly closed but moving pair of lips. He thought he could hear the crunch of the sweets, but then remembers they're dark chocolates mint truffles. The thin spicy scent lingers in the air as Chris bites half of the chocolate off this time, having one between his forefinger and thumb. There's a small smudge on the left of his lips, inconspicuous but clear as day in Tom's eyes.

'You're not having one?' Chris says while licking his lips, the pink tongue darting out just for a brief second. Tom wasn't listening, he's thinking of how the muscle could melt the chocolate in matter of seconds, so slick and hot, the wet heat enough to meld even something solid, something that's hard and pink all over, that would be so happy to be buried in that mouth of his—-

'I mean, it's yours. And I thought you love chocolates.' Chris says. 'Mate?' He waves his other hand in front of Tom's unblinking eyes, smiling as he sees how the curly headed one startles and sits up uncomfortably.

'Um, yeah.' Tom clears his throat, eyelashes fluttering while he suppresses a blush that's creeping up his neck and to his ears, he reaches for the box of chocolates on Chris' lap, and just as he tries to take one of them out of the molds, he felt something touching his lips. He stares, and realizes it's Chris' blunt fingers that is smeared with the melted chocolate and prodding.

This is definitely not how he thought today would be.

Looking at Chris in total bewilderment, he registers how the male just grins as he presses harder, making Tom parts his lips and allows the thumb to slip into his mouth, till it touches the tip of his tongue.

The refreshing mint and rich taste of the chocolate makes themselves clear as they trigger his taste buds. The drumming of his heart around his ears was an addition. His tongue swirls around the finger, realizing the others intention as the forefinger tries peeking into his mouth too.

He let it in too, no use playing the role of the blushing maiden if he ever wanted to have his perverted fantasies come true.

To make him immerse into the astonishing elation, Chris' other hand slowly skims through his neck, then his chest, while stopping to flick on his nipple, then proceeds to his belly, till finally to the front of his restricting jeans. His large hand made no further movements than to press on his crotch, caressing it with feather-light touches, that makes him moan in dissatisfaction while the fingers play with his tongue.

'Does it taste good?' Chris asks, eyes not leaving his face, deft fingers pulling down the zip and freeing the buttons. The fingers are extracted from the mouth and he reaches for the box on his lap to place it on the bedside table.

Tom could feel the trail of drool on his chin and nods fervently, unable to speak when he sees the chocolate between the slicked fingers, while his jeans get pulled down along with his boxers.

'They say today is White Valentines day.' Chris murmurs, but Tom isn't listening. He's too busy thinking of all the possible ways he could be manhandled by those huge hands.

His cock throbs as another chocolate is stuck into his mouth, and one into Chris' mouth himself. He whines in confusion, until he sees the blond strands hanging in front of Chris' face, the plush lips coming close to his cock.

And that's when Tom swear, the last thing he heard before he gets pushed into the euphoric pleasure, is those few odd words.

'Sorry I'm late.' He starts breathing moist air on the tip of the hard cock, and seconds later, Tom could feel the wet heat surrounding his organ mercilessly, a bit clumsy but _still_, amazing.

He wasn't surprised at all, when there's a piece poking at his entrance, and then slid in easily.

He will ask about that later, Tom thought as he nearly chokes on his moans and the chocolate.

* * *

_I don't have much to say, except I'm a bit unsatisfied with this. And I usually post my stuff on Tumblr first, so if you are willing to visit, it's .com_

_Thanks for reading and all of youse pretty faves, follows and reviews! 3_


End file.
